Dragon and Tiger Clash

Gao Wu had trained alongside Song Mingyue and learned much valuable Martial Dao knowledge. In Song Mingyue's words, the body was a Martial Artist's foundation, while spiritual power was a Martial Artist's central axis.

Martial Dao Divine Intent was the spiritual power a Martial Artist condensed through the thousandfold tempering of the Martial Dao. The more this spiritual power aligned with one's own Martial Dao, the more it could amplify its might.

The old man had also taught him about this, but perhaps due to the gap in their ages and knowledge structures, Gao Wu felt that the old man had not explained it as thoroughly or clearly as Song Mingyue.

Though Han Song looked mature beyond his years, he had already condensed two portions of Tiger Form True Intent. The spiritual power he unleashed was solid and formidable, enough to interfere with others' senses and even form a mental pressure.

Gao Wu's spiritual power had more than doubled during this period. Coupled with his day-and-night cultivation of the Azure Dragon Divine Qi Incantation, even though he had not comprehended his own Martial Dao True Intent, his essence, qi, and spirit were exceptionally firm and condensed.

Even Coach Huang Hai's Eye-Gaze Technique had failed to suppress him, much less Han Song.

Still, this was his first time facing Tiger Form Martial Dao True Intent, and he could not help but be stirred by the other man's imposing aura.

But he instantly came to his senses. What tiger form? What sky-blocking latissimus dorsi? All of it silently dispersed, leaving only Han Song before him, muscles bulging and face brimming with Sha Qi.

He vaguely gained an insight. Song Mingyue, the old man, and Tie Dalong often spoke of form and spirit being complete, form and spirit becoming one. He had always understood it as imitating a dragon's form and imitating a dragon's divine intent.

Yet Han Song before him had provided an excellent demonstration. He was human in form; no matter how fierce the tiger claws he wielded, he was still human in form.

What was truly impressive was that Han Song had condensed Tiger Form Divine Intent on the spiritual level. Only then did he possess a hint of form and spirit being complete, and such immense might.

Casting aside those mysterious, indescribable things, Gao Wu understood it as using tiger form as the core of one's spiritual power, thereby commanding both within and without, achieving unity of form and spirit, and fully unleashing one's individual strength.

The principle itself was not mysterious; even Song Mingyue could explain it clearly. Yet Gao Wu found it difficult to form a clear understanding of it.

Insights into the Martial Dao existed on the levels of spirit and flesh. Words, writing, light, shadow, and sound all needed to be transformed and understood by the Martial Artist himself. That was also where the Martial Dao's profundity lay.

To Gao Wu, Han Song was an evenly matched opponent. Only through direct clashes like this could he sense the other man's changes and learn from them.

Under the same circumstances, Huang Hai would have completely suppressed him. He could only struggle to protect himself; how could he have any spare energy to observe and learn?

If his opponent were too weak, they could not ignite his fighting spirit or bring him into the right state. Besides, weak opponents had little worth learning from...

The instant exchange of spiritual power between them sparked Gao Wu's inspiration, giving him a deeper understanding of the Nine Dragon Forms.

As Han Song unleashed his aura, he noticed Gao Wu's gaze had become somewhat vacant. He assumed Gao Wu had been intimidated by his Tiger Form Divine Intent and immediately pounced without hesitation.

With a single advancing step, Han Song crossed five or six meters. Both claws shot toward Gao Wu's face.

His pouncing momentum was savage and violent, truly like a fierce tiger pouncing on its prey.

Gao Wu reacted at once. His ten toes drove into the ground as he retreated rapidly, both arms crossing in a closed-gate guard to block Han Song's tiger claws.

Generally speaking, scratching with one's fingers was something women liked to do. In a real fight, people used fists; only clenched fists were hard enough and better suited for exerting force.

For Martial Artists, the same principle applied. Between Martial Artists of the same level, five spread fingers certainly could not compare with a tightly clenched fist in hardness.

But Han Song had cultivated Tiger Form for ten years, and his fingers had undergone special training. Their toughness rivaled iron hooks. With his five fingers spread, he had countless more variations than a fist: grabbing, chopping, tearing, locking, and more.

Even through his martial arts uniform, Gao Wu's arms burned where Han Song's tiger claws had raked them.

The martial arts uniform was tailored from special materials that ordinary blades could not cut through, all to protect contestants' safety. Yet Han Song had injured Gao Wu's arms through it, showing just how fierce his claw strength was.

Han Song's twin claws tore and raked down Gao Wu's arms, then shifted from grabbing to locking, clamping onto Gao Wu's wrists.

The moment Gao Wu's arms tightened, he knew things were bad. He hurriedly shook and jolted his arms. They twisted like snakes and suddenly broke free from those iron claws, while his ten toes pushed off and sent him rapidly backward.

Above all, his strength was sufficient, allowing him to escape Han Song's control in an instant. That retreating step carried the agile, unrestrained grace of a flying dragon Riding the Wind.

Han Song's upward-sweeping groin kick whistled past, his toes nearly brushing Gao Wu's lower abdomen. This Tiger Tail Leg struck like a tiger's tail whipping through the air—swift, treacherous, and one of the White Tiger Fist's killing moves.

Had Gao Wu been even a little slower, that kick would have landed. Even with underwear protecting him, he would have found it difficult to withstand the Tiger Tail Leg's savage whipping force.

Though his killing move had missed, Han Song did not lose heart. With the momentum of Fierce Tiger Ascends the Mountain, he pounced toward Gao Wu with a barrage of fists and claws.

Fierce Tiger Ascends the Mountain was like a kitten climbing a tree, using all four claws and its entire body to drive upward. In Han Song's eyes, Gao Wu was the mountain he needed to climb.

In this state, Han Song brought Tiger Form's hardness, fierceness, and dominance into full play. Wherever his fists and claws passed, the air erupted in successive booms.

Han Song was as domineering as a tiger, but Gao Wu, trapped on the defensive, retreated without disorder. No matter how ferocious Han Song's attacks became, he steadily withstood them. As he moved through his footwork, he even carried two parts of the charm of Fish Swimming Dragon Dancing, lending this fierce battle a strange beauty.

For such an intense and spectacular battle to appear on a Middle School League stage, the thousands of spectators in the Martial Arts Arena fell utterly silent, completely forgetting to cheer.

Han Yang, watching the livestream, also grew more serious. As Dongjiang Middle School's number one in the martial arts league, his attainments in the Martial Dao were extremely high.

Modern high-definition cameras were far more reliable than human eyes and could capture enough details of the battle.

In Han Yang's view, Gao Wu and Han Song's martial techniques were still somewhat rough, and their strength and speed were both lacking. But both had displayed an understanding of the Martial Dao, which was exceedingly rare.

Dongjiang had more than ten teenage Advanced Martial Artists, over half of whom had forcibly enhanced their physical qualities with drugs.

Take Yang Ru, for example. In every aspect, her physical qualities were even a little stronger than Han Song's and Gao Wu's, and she was diligent and hardworking in cultivation.

But her life had been too comfortable. She lacked experience and did not possess exceptional talent, so her understanding of the Martial Dao was shallow.

If she truly faced Gao Wu or Han Song, Yang Ru might not lose on the stage. But in actual combat, she would certainly be defeated.

Yang Ru was also watching intently, and the contempt on her face gradually faded. Even if she was somewhat inferior in Martial Dao talent, she could still see how formidable Gao Wu and Han Song were.

She praised, "Han Song is a member of your family's collateral branch, right? His White Tiger Fist has already developed a measure of its true spirit. Not bad..."

Just as Han Yang was about to speak, the situation onstage suddenly changed.

Han Song, who had been pursuing fiercely, suddenly broke through Gao Wu's defense. His tiger-form claws struck Gao Wu's chest in succession, producing loud thuds as Gao Wu's body was driven backward by the force of the blows.

After eight consecutive strikes, Han Song flipped his tiger claws upward and grabbed straight for Gao Wu's throat. With his finger strength, this strike was enough to tear Gao Wu's windpipe to pieces.

The referee beside them changed expression and prepared to intervene.

The battle had yet to determine a victor, and Gao Wu's eyes were bright. The force at his body's core gathered steadily inward—it was the posture of building momentum for a counterattack.

Besides, even if his throat were torn open, it could still be treated. The problem would not be too serious.

The purpose of the martial arts league was to temper young Martial Artists. Daring to face brutal combat was also an awareness Martial Artists had to possess.

At the critical moment, Gao Wu tilted his head, twisted his body, and flung out his palm. Borrowing the force of his body's rotation, his right hand slashed upward in reverse like a blade—the Breaking the Waves form of the Dragon-Roaming Sword.

He had deliberately exposed an opening, intending to endure several of Han Song's blows with his body before seizing the chance to counterattack.

Han Song's tiger claw reached Gao Wu's throat first, but Gao Wu twisted his neck and became as slippery and ungraspable as a great fish. There was also a difference of just over an inch in distance.

That tiny distance made it impossible for Han Song's tiger claw to exert force, leaving only three long blood marks on Gao Wu's neck.

Han Song's tiger claw strike failed, but Gao Wu's reverse-slashed Breaking the Waves palm blade struck Han Song across the cheek.

Borrowing power from the whipping motion, this palm blade was fast and vicious. It struck Han Song's face out of shape. The tremendous impact made his vision go black, his legs instantly weakened, and the fist frame at his body's core scattered.

Gao Wu seized the chance to raise his leg in a high sweeping kick. The Divine Dragon Tail Whip kick, power building section by section, directly kicked the air apart.

Seeing this, many spectators let out frightened screams.

Just as Gao Wu's whip kick swept toward Han Song's head, the referee lightly reached out and stopped Gao Wu while also pushing Han Song away.

The referee's martial skill was exquisite. The power in his hand was soft and yielding as water, dissolving all the force in Gao Wu's whip kick. Gao Wu followed the motion and withdrew his leg without pursuing further.

"You won." The referee gave Gao Wu a slight nod, signaling that the battle was over, before turning to inspect Han Song's injuries.

Fortunately, Han Song's body was tough and his skull hard. Though the flesh on his face had been battered into a bloody, swollen mess, his injuries were not severe.

His head had suffered a violent concussion, however. Han Song's gaze was still unfocused, and his body was too limp to muster strength. Had the referee not supported him, he would have already collapsed.

Gao Wu cupped his hands toward Han Song. "What a beautiful Tiger Form. I have benefited greatly."

He was not being sarcastic. Song Mingyue had sparred with him, and though her guidance had been meticulous down to the finest detail, it had not been intense at all.

Only this battle with Han Song had been truly evenly matched, truly igniting his hot blood. Defeating Han Song filled him with an intense sense of satisfaction. The taste of victory had become so wonderful...

Han Song looked at Gao Wu blankly, unable to react for the moment.

The Fourth Middle School's school doctors and others hurriedly helped Han Song away. Two martial arts team members shot Gao Wu vicious glares.

Gao Wu bared his teeth at them in a smile. Only when the movement tugged at his muscles did he feel the burning pain in his neck.

He touched it and found that only the surface skin had been damaged a little. With a constitution above ten points, he really was built to take a beating.

His heart was now brimming with the joy of victory, and he politely cupped his hands in salute to all sides.

The Fourth Middle School spectators were in terrible moods after their home team suffered such a crushing defeat. But the battle just now had been brutally fierce, and Gao Wu had won by staking his life in a hard fight. No one jeered; the entire venue remained silent.

A thousand miles away at Anjing University, a beautiful woman wrapped her arms around Shang Qingjun's neck and exclaimed, "Is Dongjiang Middle School League really this vicious? Our little brother practically fought with his life on the line. Tsk, tsk... That was ruthless!"

Shang Qingjun frowned slightly. That had truly been dangerous. She had really been worried. Xiao Wu had been far too aggressive...